


Knock, Knock, Knockin' on Harry's Door

by mitslits



Series: Prompts [9]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Bottom Harry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4894873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/mitslits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you're still accepting prompts could you write Harry masturbating and Eggsy discovering him when he burst into the room without knocking? (I like bottom!Harry but either way would be awesome) thanks in advance!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knock, Knock, Knockin' on Harry's Door

**Author's Note:**

> Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's do-oo-or

Eggsy only knocks when he cases a place to rob. It’s made for a couple awkward situations before (like the time when he walked in on Merlin with his hand halfway down Roxy’s pants; he got three missions to Siberia back to back after that), but nothing he hasn’t been able to brush off. Until now, anyways. 

Because he honestly never expected to find Harry with his head thrown back, hair mussed and plastered to his forehead with sweat, hand slicking over his swollen cock. 

He’s not even sure if Harry would have noticed his intrusion if he hadn’t let out a half-choked word of apology before tugging the door shut. He only has enough time to see Harry’s eyes snap open before it closes completely. Whatever it was he’d had to tell him has gone away, replaced by the image of Harry’s half-naked body that seems seared into his brain.

He realizes his hand is still clamped around the doorknob when it rattles in his grip. His hand flies back as if the metal seared his palm and the door opened rather slowly. 

A very unprofessional Harry Hart greets him. He’s got a dress shirt on, but only three of the buttons are done up and it’s half-untucked, trousers ruffled with one leg bunched, fabric folded in on itself, exposing his shin. 

“Terribly sorry about that, Eggsy,” he rasps, and god, his voice has never shot straight to Eggsy’s dick like that. “Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

 _Yeah, your office probably ain’t the best place to rub one out, bruv_ , Eggsy’s brain unhelpfully supplies. “Uh… just that… you might wanna, uh, lock? Your door?” Much better, Eggsy. “I mean I saw, uh-

_-your fucking gorgeous prick-_

…everythin’,” Eggsy finishes lamely, thinking that now would be the exact best time for a hole in the earth to appear right underneath him. 

Harry closes his eyes briefly, lowering his head. “Yes, well, I do apologize for that-”

“You don’t have to,” Eggsy rushes to say, cutting him off and immediately cursing himself afterwards. 

Harry blinks at him. 

“Apologize, I mean,” he mutters, clarifying. His eyes flick briefly down to the front of Harry’s trousers where it’s very clear Harry didn’t finish anything before opening the door. “Should probably let you get back to… work.” 

Harry nods, already on his way to closing the door. “In the future, Eggsy, you may want to consider knocking.” 

-

Except Eggsy apparently has a shit memory because it’s less than a month later that Gawain’s asking him to drop a briefing off for him and he’s swinging right into Harry’s room just as carefree as you like. 

“Eggsy,” Harry hisses, releasing himself and bending down to snatch some article of clothing up from the floor, balling it up, and sticking it in his lap. It turns out to be a suit jacket that’s going to need a good scrubbing after this. 

It does something to him, that, Harry saying Eggsy’s name while he’s sprawled out naked. 

The manila folder almost slips from his grasp, but he convinces his fingers to keep their hold on it. “Sorry, sorry, just came to drop this off,” he mumbles, trying to keep his eyes on the floor, or the desk, or really anything that isn’t Harry. 

“If you wouldn’t mind…” Harry says, voice strained. He inclines his head towards the desk and then jerks it in the direction of the door. 

Eggsy hears, he doesn’t see. Or, well, he sees, but he ignores. He slips around the desk, dropping the file on top of it and then keeping right on going until he’s kneeling in front of Harry on his knees. “I don’t mind,” he says, already batting the jacket and Harry’s hands away. 

Harry discovers Eggsy’s lack of a gag reflex when the younger man swallows him practically all the way down in one go. He moans, hand reaching out to card through Eggsy’s carefully styled hair, raking it all to hell. 

His mouth is magic, tongue sweeping down his length, swirling expertly around the head. He makes the filthiest noises that are somehow sweet, massages circles into his thighs with his thumbs. When he pulls off with a sloppy pop and presses a kiss right to the tip of his shaft, Harry whimpers with need. 

Thankfully, Eggsy seems to be just as worked up, fingers already scrabbling at his belt. “Damn thing, miss not wearin’ the fuckin’-”

With an amused smile, Harry leans forwards, wrapping his hands around Eggsy’s forcing him to stop. He takes over, deftly undoing the buckle and sliding it out of the loops. 

“Thanks, Harry,” Eggsy breathes out, relieved. He shucks his pants and trousers, cock half hard already. 

Harry’s eager (not to mention practiced) hands get him the rest of the way there. 

Eggsy tugs him out of the chair, keeps his grip on his shoulders so he can reach his mouth. 

Tasting himself on Eggsy’s tongue has him moaning into his mouth, cock twitching in anticipation. He pulls back just enough to give him some control over his mouth, lips brushing Eggsy’s with each word. “Fuck me, Eggsy.” 

Grinning broadly, Eggsy let out a breathless laugh. “Thought you’d never ask.”

There’s never been a sight as beautiful as Harry bending over his desk, spreading himself for Eggsy and he’s seen five of the world’s seven wonders. He settles himself behind him, pressing a kiss to the base of his spine, fingers skimming up the back of his legs and over the curve of his ass. He gets to work, swiping his tongue eagerly over his hole, Harry trembling underneath him. 

He licks him open with short, clipped strokes and it isn’t long before he’s spit-slick enough for Eggsy to work in a finger. He stops, lets Harry adjust, moves the digit in and out to relax him even more. 

Eggsy pauses, drawing his finger out. 

“Bottom left,” Harry gasps out, already knowing the reason behind his sudden emptiness. 

In the bottom drawer on the left side of the desk, shoved way in the back, there’s a small bottle of lube and a tiny pile of foil packages. It appears Harry is just prepared for everything all the time. But it’s come in handy, so Eggsy’s not going to complain. He spills some lube onto his fingers, smearing it on and into Harry’s hole, savoring the small whimpers. Eggsy rolls the condom on, slicking it up with more of the lubricant, but he spends a bit more time loosening Harry up first, two of his fingers working around inside him, scissoring outwards. 

“Enjoyable as this might be, I think I would much prefer if you just got to fucking me already,” Harry points out, a little testily. His head cranes back over his shoulder so he can glance at Eggsy meaningfully. 

Muttering something about how he’s an insatiable old bastard, Eggsy withdraws his fingers. He slowly guides his cock into him, leaving time for Harry’s gasps to die out before pushing in any further. When he bottoms out he leans forwards, one arm wrapping around Harry’s hips, the other reaching around to give his cock a long stroke. 

Harry practically sobs, his hips pushing back against Eggsy insistently. “Asked you to fuck me, not stand there,” he hisses belligerently. 

This is his favorite version of Harry, Eggsy decides, speaking in broken sentences, demanding to be fucked, that carefully composed gentleman completely wiped away by need and desperation. This is a Harry he’s going to have to keep around, get to know a little better. He stretches forwards, pressing a kiss to the bare skin of his shoulder before pulling out and slamming back into him. If Harry wants to be fucked, that’s what he’s going to get. 

The breath is driven out of Harry’s lungs and all he can do is curl his fingers around the edge of the desk and press his forehead to the polished wood, hanging on for dear life. 

Eggsy can tell Harry’s getting close when his hips start moving back to meet him, bringing them together even more forcefully. He groans out loud, remember that he’s still got Harry’s cock in his hand. He runs his hand down it again and that’s it, that’s what Harry needed. He slams back into Eggsy, grip going white-knuckled, a moan shuddering through his whole body. 

Harry’s hole clenches around his cock and his come coats Eggsy’s hand, bringing him right over with him. 

Eggsy never really bothered learning to knock.


End file.
